


Poetic Redemption

by tvivacious (hi_im_t)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Avada Kedavra, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Found Poetry, HPDH never happened, Polyjuice Potion, Post-Hogwarts, Sexual Content, cross posted on HPFF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-23 21:15:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16167131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hi_im_t/pseuds/tvivacious
Summary: A story of two lovers and their fight to love freely; a story of love, sex, danger, intrigue, betrayal and a poetic redemption.





	1. Missing

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work I posted over a decade ago, and I’ve decided to bring it back from the dead haha I’d love feedback so I can start writing new stuff again! For posterity’s sake, I’m leaving all errors as is, to give you the full extent of vintage T’s writing.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco wakes up lost, and Hermione wakes to find him missing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally posted on HPFF in 2007, I’m reposting it here to not only bring it back from the dead, but to learn from my mistakes before dabbling in fanfic again. I’ve left the errors for posterity’s sake

_I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;_  
I lift my lids and all is born again.  
(I think I made you up inside my head).....  
-Sylvia Plath  
  
  
  
He struggled to open his eyes, smelling a familiar metallic scent and tasting rust. He couldn’t hear anything but his own ragged breathing as he felt along the cold ground, blind and afraid.

\-------------------------------------------------------

  
She paces up and down, taking no notice of the elegantly furnished bedroom. She sighs and flings herself onto the enormous bed, exasperated. She turns longingly towards the window, eyeing the sun as it seems to race across the sky, mocking her. She moves to turn away from the window, brushing tears from her eyes, but first spies a picture of Him. She plucks up the frame and begins to cry, cradling the picture feeling helpless. 

\---------------------------------------------------------

  
Crawling and feeling his way on the ground felt like it was taking ages, but he couldn’t stop until he felt his way into a corner— where nothing could sneak up on him while he was defenseless. Crouching there he carefully pried his eyes apart until he could see. Finally he forces his swollen eyes open, pushing pale blond strands of hair from his field of vision. He glanced over himself, looking for bleeding or broken limbs; once he was satisfied he was in working order, he moved onto his face. Ignoring the burning sensation in his arms from reaching for his face, he feels fhis spilt lip which was bleeding into his mouth, but other than that and his eyes he was fine. He struggled to remain conscious and remember what had happened.

 _I guess I better start from yesterday..._ he thinks to himself.

\---------------------------------------------------------

  
She blinks herself awake, the day nearly half gone, and gingerly sets his picture back on the night stand. Taking a moment to take in his ice blue eyes and smug smile, she then decides that waiting for news wasn’t going to help him at all. _He would never let me live this down if he saw me._

She went to take a quick shower and afterwards set to brushing her thick hair back, silently cursing her genetics for giving her such bushy hair that would only cooperate when it wanted to. She stops brushing. _It cooperated when He was here_...she thinks.

Shaking herself, she turns to leave and her eyes rest on the little velvet box where he had left it the morning before. _It seems like it was ages ago..._ she shudders moving towards the box. She had promised that she wouldn’t open it until their anniversary dinner--but that was tonight and he was no where to be found.

Her hands shake as she picks up the box; it’s so light she’s convinced she simply imagined the box. Opening the box, she gasps and whispers, “Draco...”


	2. Home Prison Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco remembers the turn of events that landed him in the dungeons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What’s funny is the original version of this chapter was shot down by HPFF several times for being too graphic, but nowadays it would’ve been fine...too bad I can’t find the original. Again, all errors belong to 2007 T, not present day T who is literally cringing as she publishes this. Ohh well ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 
> 
> Find me on tumblr if you wanna @letsstopfightingit

_Do not go gentle into that good night,_  
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;  
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.  
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight  
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,  
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.  
And you, my father, there on the sad height,  
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.  
Do not go gentle into that good night,  
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.  
-Dylan Thomas  
  
  
  
“Hermione...” he whispers as the first thing he remembers is the little velvet box and their morning the day before.

\-------------------------

  
**THE DAY BEFORE**  
  
”Stop being such a git and get out of the shower!! I’ve gotta go to the loo, and you’ve been in there for AGES!” Hermione yelled bouncing from foot to foot.  
  
“I’m right here” whispered Draco, suddenly behind Hermione  
  
“AH, you prat! Alohomora!” Hermione mutters, unlocking the door and bolting in.  
  
“I left you a present on the counter”  
  
Intrigued, Hermione surveys the bathroom from her vantage point on the toilet. Immediately spying it by the sink, she flushes and goes to wash her hands. Peeking through the broad mahogany door frame, she looks for Draco. Satisfied that he isn’t around, she turns back to the marble countertop and reaches for the little velvet box.  
  
“OH NO YOU DON’T!” he snaps appearing from the bedroom. Softening his voice he adds, “Promise me you won’t peek until our anniversary dinner...you can wait until then can’t you?”  
  
“Oh course I can,” she replies indignantly upset that he’s teasing her but basking in his attention at the same time.  
  
He pushes the velvet box away from her and maneuvers her with her back against the counter. “I know you can darling, but I’m not so sure I can,” he whispers lustfully into her hair, nuzzling her neck. She pushes herself against him, lifting his chin and kissing him. Deeply. Passionately. Sultry.  
  
He sets her on the edge of the sink counter and moves to her legs, kissing up their length. She sighs and leans back to give him more room.  
  
As she curves her body closer to him, he feels a stirring in him that only she could unleash. He nibbles along the sensitive skin of her pelvis, lightly nipping the folds of flesh there. She gasps and leans forward to kiss him. The brush of her lips was enough to send shock waves up and down his spine. She bites his lip, whispering “How do you do this to me?”  
  
He smiled and picked her up effortlessly to the bedroom, “the question is, how do  you keep doing this to me.”  
  
He tossed her playfully onto the bed, pulled off her nightgown, and eased himself onto her, licking his way down her neck to her chest. He delved deep into the valley between her supple mounds, savoring her taste, teasing her.  
  
She pulls him up and claws at his clothes, moving quickly to sate her lust.  
  
“I love you...”  
  
“I love you too...”  
  
The only words uttered. He kisses her hard, his tongue gently tugging at hers, his lips pressing hard against hers. He brings his hips into alignment with hers. There’s little resistance, her previous pleasure providing lubrication, giving little friction, and then only bliss. He thrusts and she moves to meet him--they move as waves on an ocean, crashing to meet each other and pulling away to repeat it. Finally, they fall onto the bed together, panting and moving to lay together; their moist bodies close as the drift to sleep.  
  
Draco awakens and glances at Hermione; she is sound asleep, her chest steadily rising and falling. Draco sneaks out of the the bed, careful not to disturb her; if she awoke it would certainly delay his plans. But he makes no sound on the way to the wardrobe. Quickly he dresses, whispering his reasons to her sleeping form, “I love you, I wish I didn’t have to go like a thief in the night, but you’d refuse to let me go and I need to do this for us. You may tire of this otherwise, this never fully being able to have me because of him.”  
  
He blows her a kiss as he pulls on his coat, and Disapparates. She, none the wiser, simply turns over and sighs, deep in her dreams.  
  
Draco Apparates to the gates of his childhood home prison hell, Malfoy Manor. He saunters to the wrought iron gates, which swing open wide to grant him entrance, seemingly swallowing him whole in their wide grasp. Draco opens the front door and unceremoniously yells, “OI! YOU RUDDY BASTARD!” and swaggers nonchalantly into the parlor, removes his coat and sits to await the flurry of robes certain to signal the arrival of his father.  
  
Moments later, the predicted scene occurs, only with Narcissa, Draco’s mother, leading the march down the grand staircase racing to embrace her only son.  
  
“You know you’re father’s going to be upset with that. Where have you been gone for so long? Have you met a young lady?” His mother’s questions come in a torrent, but are quickly silenced by Lucius’s hand on her shoulder.  
  
“Now Now Narcissa, he can’t possibly answer that tripe if we don’t give him a moment to,” he states evenly, “Well Draco? Continue, we’re breathlessly awaiting your responses.”  
  
_Ass_ he thinks to himself before replying, “all right, let’s get on to the first order of business, shall we?” Motioning to the plush couches, they all sit; Narcissa and Lucius sitting opposite Draco, all erect and on the defensive.  
  
“Well yes Mother, I have met a girl” Draco addresses his mother, but locks eyes with his father, “she's amazing and brilliant.”  
  
“That’s wonderful Draco! When can I expect to meet her? What’s she like?” Narcissa’s enthusiasm for her son’s significant other is once again stopped by her husband, this time with a glacier cold stare.  
  
“See Mum, that's what I’m here for. You see, I don’t want Father to meet her. She’s not quite up to father’s ‘standards’ and I don’t want her to feel as though she’s not welcome as part of the family.”  
  
Lucius’s stance tightened, “what is it Draco? Is she ugly or from a lower family? You say that as though she were a Mudblo--” He stops seeing Draco’s smirk, “No. NO. She  is, isn’t she?!”  
  
Draco draws himself to his full height, “Yes, in fact it’s Hermione Granger”  
  
Lucius’s expression goes from sour to rage in moments at the sound of her name, “No. As a Death Eater, you know that is what we stand AGAINST, the tainting of the bloodlines, and here you are supporting it!”  
  
Lucius is standing now yelling in full force in Draco’s face, “WHAT AM I TO SAY WHEN THE DARK LORD DEMANDS TO KNOW WHY MY OWN SON HAS YET TO JOIN OUR RANKS?! THAT HE’S RUN OFF TO PROCREATE WITH TRASH?!”  
  
Draco sat there calmly throughout his father’s rant waiting for that very question. “I don’t care what you say Father. That’s your business, you can say you’ve disowned me, or that I’m the bastard product of an ‘affair’ of Mothers. Its not like you actually care how she feels, like I care about Hermione. I LOVE her, and I don’t want to be a Death Eater; I want to keep her safe and make her happy...much more than you’ve ever done for my mother.”  
  
Lucius moves to strike Draco, but is stilled by Narcissa’s shaking hand on his arm and a look of anguish and embarrassment at the fact that their loveless marriage wasn’t a secret.  
  
“Ahem, well Draco, if you believe it should be that easy, I suppose you may be right. I’ll take it up with the Dark Lord immediately.”  
Draco blanched, suddenly wary of his father’s tone.  
  
“Well, Son, this must be where we part ways, I go my way as a Death Eater and you go your way as a Mudblood lover. I’m sure you’ll be by soon to visit your mother.”  
  
Lucius gestured to show Draco he was going to escort him to the door, but Draco wouldn’t budge--knowing full well the real explosion hadn’t happened yet. Lucius bowed graciously and turned to the staircase unhurried and aloof.  
  
Narcissa is the first to speak, “Draco, you’d better go now, run; take Hermione and leave--never look back. This won’t end well.”  
  
Draco set his jaw and stood, “Mother, I won’t let him do this. I won’t have him ruin our lives anymore. I won’t do medieval things because someone ages ago in a time of bigotry said it was the way things should be. Bugger it. I’m going up.”  
  
He hugged his mother and said “you would have loved her.” Then he turned and tread up the stairs, gathering his wits for the fight to come.  
  
He turned a corner and was caught off guard by a hex; he flew across the hall and struck a door jamb. “you foolish, ungrateful imbecile. You don’t turn away from the Dark Lord, you go when he commands you to go! no one leaves without his orders, especially not for some filthy mudblood! You call me a coward for following him? I call you a coward for not having the strength and vision to follow the Dark Lord.”  
  
He hits Draco with hex after hex, throwing him around the landing like a tennis ball, “As a follower of the Dark Lord, I will never have to fear about my life or worry about trivial things like justice, like the foolish masses who stampede like dumb cattle, who spook at the slightest upset.”  
  
He spits, and crouches to whisper malevolently to Draco, “I suppose this is your mother’s raising you that turned you out to be a soft runt, certainly no son of mine.”  
  
Draco swiped his legs, knocking his father to the floor, and jumped up to kick his father’s wand away. Draco kicked him with considerable force in the face over and over, “That's for never loving my mother, for never loving me, for trying to brainwash me, for not accepting me, for being such a prick and for worshipping some evil man who would kill you for a small trace of Potter instead of making a family a family.”  
  
Draco brandishes his wand and lowers it at his father, “you do what is asked of you because you don’t want to lose the luxury of not having to worry about ‘trivial things’ like living your life and having a happy marriage. you’re secretly worried that if you had to care you’d fall short at everything. I have news for you Father, you already have. _Stupefy!_ ”  
  
After hexing his father, he turns to leave but is hit with the Cruciatus Curse. Draco hits the floor writhing and screaming wordlessly into the empty air--his pain beyond words and all comprehension. The curse is lifted and Draco can open his eyes. He sees several Death Eaters on the landing, each with their wand drawn and aimed at Draco.  
“Hermione...” he whispers  
  
_“CRUCIO!!!”_

\---------------------------------------------  


  
And that’s all Draco could remember. Frustrated, he howls and staggers to the iron bars before him. He slowly realizes the familiar smell, was that of the dungeons that he played as a child. Prisoner in the dungeons of Malfoy Manor, his home prison hell. 


	3. The Velvet Box

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione finds where he is, and calls for reinforcements to help get him back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with me so far, Vintage T would’ve flipped her lid. Any errors are hers, this is my penance for not getting a beta in 2007. 
> 
> I’m on tumblr @letsstopfightingit — come visit

_My love, my love, if you could come once more_  
From your high place,  
I would not question you for heavenly lore,  
But, silent, take the comfort of your face.  
I would not ask you if those golden spheres  
In love rejoice,  
If only our stained star hath sin and tears,  
But fill my famished hearing with your voice.  
One touch of you were worth a thousand creeds.  
My wound is numb  
Through toil-pressed, but all night long it bleeds  
In aching dreams, and still you cannot come.  
-Katharine Lee Bates  
  
She stood there, transfixed by the solitary diamond edged by sapphires on a platinum band that sat nestled in the little velvet box. “Draco...” she whispers again teetering towards the bed, uneasy at her new discovery. She sinks onto the edge of the bed, hugging the velvet box to her chest, new tears brimming from her eyes. She lays back, suddenly aware of how big the room and the bed were without him--immediately thinking they would swallow her whole.  
  
**_RING RING_** Hermione shot up startled, the ringing phone bringing her out of her trance. She moves nearer to the phone and apprehensively reaches for the phone, afraid of who may be on it. “H-hello?” she answers her voice shaking.  
“Ello Hermione?! MERLIN! Where have you been? I’ve been ringing you all day!”  
“Oh, Harry!” The words rush from her lips, relieved that it is her old friend, “Draco’s gone, and I’d been waiting for word because he was gone when I woke up. I figured he’d gone for breakfast, but he wasn’t in the house and after a few hours I began to worry so I scryed for him. And Harry, oh Harry, he’s at Malfoy Manor!” She pauses, afraid to say what she was feeling, “I think something has happened, Harry. Erm, its just a feeling, but I can’t shake it”  
  
Harry sighs, pulls his glasses off, and pinches the bridge of his nose, “Well, how do you know he’s not just talking to them or something?” Hermione bristled, “Did you forget who is family is, Harry? They’re the  Malfoys, they don’t talk about anything. Besides, why would he sneak out if that’s all he was doing?”Harry sat silently, “you’ve got a point Mione, look, give me half an hour, and I’ll fetch Ron and we’ll be at your place, yeah?”  
  
Hermione nodded, forgetting she was on the phone, but Harry had already hung up so she gently lowered the receiver. She slunk to the floor and gathered her knees to her chest. This wasn’t how she planned on spending her anniversary-- alone and afraid on the cold ground. She looked out the window, the sun had already set and evening darkness was beginning to settle in. _Our dinner should have been hours ago_ she thinks, then shoots a glance in the direction of the velvet box, _to think, by now I could already be engaged._ She perches on her knees looking at the velvet box.  
  
Wearily, she finally pushes her cramping limbs up off the floor and heads to the curving stair case towards the vast kitchen. “Merlin...” she mutters “I haven’t eaten all day. Who knows how long Draco will be gone, but there's no sense in sitting around starving for word.” The kitchen is easily her favorite room in the entire house. Dark warm rich wood cabinets, marble countertops, and shined surfaces everywhere made it feel like a snug retreat from the world. And then there were all the memories in this room: the night Draco had brought her here on a date to suggest she move in; cooking for his birthday for ages. _He would have proposed here, I’m sure of it_. She leant against the stove gazing at their picture on the icebox; the two of them feeding each other food and grinning into the camera.  
  
Straightening up she fixes herself a cup of tea, silently chastising herself for reminiscing and tottering about as though he were dead. _He would laugh to see me acting this way..._ Nursing her cup, Hermione moves into the parlor to wait for Harry and Ron, she plunks down into an armchair facing the fireplace and waits. Her eyelids start to feel heavy, the result of crying all morning and the hazy fire in the room. She stands shaking the sleep from her and paces the room listlessly, “what is taking these two ages?”

The fire flares and out tumbles Harry and Ron. “OW HARRY! THAT’S ATTACHED TO ME YA KNOW!”

Hermione stifled a laugh, Ron had always been a little less than graceful when it came to Floo Powder. “Sorry, Ron.” Hermione rushed to help them detach and stand, brushing them off, “Its about time you two! Have a little trouble finding the place?”  
“No!” came the reply, a little too quickly.  
“oh, really? haha your tones tell me otherwise boys. need anything to drink?”

The guys nodded and followed her into the kitchen. She pulls glasses from the cupboards and hands them to Harry and Ron, gesturing to the icebox to help themselves. She jumps onto the edge of the countertop to sit facing the two, “Thanks for coming you guys, it means a lot to me that you’re willing to help me find Draco.” The boys nodded in assent and continued foraging in her icebox. Hermione finished her tea and watched the boys and the clock, wishing they would hurry as she was eager to find Draco. After locating jam and some other foods, Ron turned to Hermione, and called her name. Hermione still zoned out snapped back to attention when a bread crust flew across the room and bounced off her forehead. She turned to Ron who was talking with his mouth stuffed, “’ey, so Mione, when’d you first figure he was leaving?” Hermione thought quickly to the minutes after they had made love, where he was slightly odd:  
  
_”Come on, you know them, just close your eyes and focus on the shapes I’m making.” Draco says, lightly dragging his fingertips across Hermione’s naked back. Hermione’s senses on high alert give her a rush of the chills as she starts to doze off. “If I didn’t know any better, Draco, I’d think you were trying to get me to fall asleep” she muttered sleepily into her pillow._  
“Nonsense love, I’m right here, where am I going to go?” he whispers back, shooting an unnoticed glance at the wardrobe to asses its contents.  
“I don’t know...you seem a little....” Hermione had dozed off, deep in a sleep nuzzled against Draco.  
  
”That's the about when I had a feeling but wasn’t sure, in fact I wasn’t completely sure until I scryed for him.”  
“Well, Hermione while we finish you feel like scrying for him, just so we have a vague idea of where he might be?” Harry suggested, polishing off the last of his sandwich.  
“Sure, Harry, I’ll be right back guys, try not to burn the house down.”  
Hermione went into the study behind the kitchen and bent over the county map she had spread out from her earlier scrying. Picking up the chain attached to the smooth crystal, she begins to swing it in steady circles across the length of the map, continuing over every inch of the county, eager for a sign of where Draco was. Harry and Ron came into the study, and waited for the crystal to find where they should begin looking. The crystal sank into the area of Malfoy Manor, and Hermione shakes her head, “its the same as before, how will we know if anything is wrong?”  
  
Ron shrugs and says simply “the only way to find out is to find people who know more than we do, and ask them” handing Hermione her coat. Hermione puts on her coat and allows herself to be lead out the door to Disapparate to town.  
  
The trio arrives at the edge of Knockturn Alley, and all quickly use several charms to change their appearances to help them gather information about Draco’s whereabouts. They split up to inquire about their friend, and Hermione heads into Borgin and Burkes, remembering that Lucius is a frequent customer. Sidling up to the counter, Hermione begins to lay her feminine wiles on thick to try and woo Borgin into a friendly mood.  
“So Borgin, did you happen to finally sell that opal necklace that was giving you trouble? Because I know someone who may be interested in it... very interested.”  
Borgin’s ears pricked up at the implication of money, “How interested did you say? Because I may have other interested parties who have tenure over mystery bidders”  
Hermione was prepared for this false statement, “Well how many of your customers have tenure Borgin? I always thought Lucius was as close to tenure as your inbred swine of customers got”  
Borgin’s mouth twitched, a dead give away of his bluff, but Hermione pounced, “So it is Lucius! Well, has he come round today? Or could you give me the address so I can let him know that someone else is interested in the necklace, and can make it well worth both your troubles.” Hermione thought this was a bit of a stretch but the greedy fool Borgin scratched out the address and said “Lucius will be there, he hasn’t come round to day which is odd because most weeks he’s here this time” and shrugged turning back to add up the money the necklace would now probably be worth.  
  
Hermione took that as her cue to sneak out and find Ron and Harry, carefully destroying the paper so as to leave no evidence of this “interested party”. She quickly filled them in of Lucius’s suspicious absence from his haunting place and used that as her proof that he had Draco in the Manor.  
“Which is why we should go there now and get him out before they can do anything more to him!”  
“Hermione, I agree with you, but there’s only three of us, and Merlin knows how many of them. Besides Hermione, we don’t even have a plan.”  
Hermione realized how rash it was to go in guns blazing and not even have any concrete evidence Draco was hurt. “All right, let’s just go back to my place and we’ll think of a plan in the morning. I’m sure we’re all exhausted.”  
  
The three of them exit Knockturn Alley, remove the appearance charms and Apparate to the house. Hermione leads them down a corridor to their rooms, and turning to return to her room she bumps into something hard. She looks up, brings a hand to her mouth and faints. Harry and Ron run out of their rooms at the sound of Hermione falling and see what she ran into— it was Draco.


	4. Loss Over Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco’s mother comes and is sent away; Narcissa thinks of where her marriage went wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I remember really struggling with this chapter, so any feedback is great— even though it was written a decade ago haha Vintage T owns the errors, if any. I’m just trying to learn from her mistakes before getting back into fic writing again
> 
> Visit tumblr @letsstopfightingit

_The art of losing isn't hard to master;_  
so many things seem filled with the intent  
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.  
Lose something every day. Accept the fluster  
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.  
The art of losing isn't hard to master.  
Then practice losing farther, losing faster:  
places, and names, and where it was you meant  
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.  
I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or  
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.  
The art of losing isn't hard to master.  
I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,  
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.  
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.  
\--Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture  
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident  
the art of losing's not too hard to master  
though it may look like (Write _it!) like disaster._  
-Elizabeth Bishop  
  
  
  
He slides down the wall, spent from trying to find chinks, cracks, any weakness that would help him find a way towards freedom--towards Hermione. He had found nothing, and wasn’t surprised, there had never been any in his childhood; only then he was comforted by their static strength, convinced they would keep him safe. Now he couldn’t leave and was desperate, leaning his head back against the cold hard stone, trying to form a plan. “How do I always manage to get myself into situations like these?” he muses aloud.  
  
”Lucky I suppose” replies a steely cold voice from the shadows surrounding his cell in the dungeon. Draco leaps to his feet, on the offensive, craning his eyes for a look at his jailer. Lucius steps into the light, sneering in disgust at his son, “Well, blood traitor, good to see you’ve awoken, the Dark Lord will be arriving soon, and I’d enjoy it immensely if you were alert for your punishment.” Draco felt the blood drain from his face, if he were being punished what would stop them from hurting Hermione? “Nothing at all, Mudblood Lover.” _Shit._ Draco remembers that his father is skilled in Legilimency, and quickly throws up his Occlumency learned mental shields. “HAHAHA,” Lucius laughed bitterly, “you think that will keep me out? I was the one who taught you, fool.”  
  
He raises his wand to curse Draco, but is stopped by a pop and a small throat being cleared. Lucius turns and spies a house-elf bowed low, waiting for Lucius’s attention before continuing, “Forgiving the intrusion, Master, but you have guests in the sitting room and the Mistress sent me to receive them and fetch you, Sir.” Lucius replies in a condescending manner, “you didn’t interrupt. You are dismissed.” The house-elf vanishes and Lucius turns back to his son, “I’ll deal with you after I see to these guests, and dear me, the Dark Lord should be here shortly, and I do believe he is going to punish you as he sees fit.” Lucius turns on his heel and walks out of the dungeons.  
  
Draco falls to his knees, frantic as his time is quickly running out. His eyes scan the hard stone, the dark bars, and the small barred window, noticing that the sun has set and evening was beginning to settle in. _Nothing. I can’t believe there’s nothing._ He puts his head in his hands and sighs heavily. “Draco” a voice whispers quickly. Draco’s head snaps up, hope in his eyes, “Mum? Is that you?”  
“Yes, its me” she coos softly, trying to comfort her imprisoned son. She glances around the dungeon looking for Lucius; satisfied he is gone she moves quickly to the bars and sits opposite her son. “Darling, are you all right? Has he hurt you? Why are you in here? Do you need anything? Anything at all?” her voice trails off and breaks at these questions, but she doesn’t need them to know her only son is hurt and afraid. She sighs wearily.  
  
Draco hears his mother’s questions but doesn’t answer them; she’s never needed him to tell her how he felt, she always seemed to know. And now he can tell her heart is breaking seeing him this way; he tries to smile to set her at ease, but can only sigh wearily.  
  
They lock eyes, her eyes growing wet with helpless tears, his pleading with her to stop crying. “Mum, I’m sorry I hadn’t meant for it to end up like this.”  
“Draco, it’s not your fault, your father is just...” she breaks off her mind drifting to her husband and where their marriage seemed to begin to fray.  
  


_”I now pronounce you husband and wife.” They kiss ecstatically and turn to the wedding guests. He puts his hand on the small of her back and leans close to whisper, “Narcissa, dear, I love you.” She looks into his eyes and smiles, “I love you too, Lucius.”_

Their honeymoon was long over, but their newlywed behavior continued well into the following years of their marriage. “Lu, I’m pregnant.” He picks her up and swings her around, laughing and overjoyed.

She wakes up to find herself alone, and hears voices from the nursery. She goes to the noise, thinking her son had woken up. Lucius was talking animatedly and quietly to two men in cloaks. Worried, Narcissa sneaks into her son’s room to listen, but one of the men spot her and call the group’s attention to her presence. Lucius glances, crestfallen at his wife.

The Malfoys are in Diagon Alley spending a rare afternoon together, when Lucius straightens up and mumbles an excuse to leave. Narcissa stands in his way, challenging his decision, and he simply shoots back “You’re making it increasingly difficult to keep you out of this,” and pushes her aside. She sees him walk decidedly towards Knockturn Alley.

She shrugs indifferently and fixes her eyes on a worn spot on the rug; Lucius is yelling about coddling his son, and allowing him to fraternize with Mudblood children around the town. She yells back about how he’s never there to raise Draco, so he cannot expect her to raise their son to his standards. And then she brings up the disappearing at all hours of the night, and Lucius stalks out of the room.

The first time he hit her she had seen the Dark Mark and was arguing with him about it. He whirls around and slaps her, “This is no concern of yours. As my wife, you have no power nor position to question my actions. When I want your input, I’ll be sure to ask.”

Their marriage is becoming more and more obligatory; no mentions of emotions or making love. Their passion suspended--reappearing and disappearing as quickly as it had come.

She gives up on Lucius returning her love, and is trying to become content with being married to the man she loves--even though he doesn’t seem to love her. She turns all her affections to her only son, afraid to fight for her husband’s attentions any longer, and channels all the love for both the men in her life into her son--the only part of the Lucius she had loved, and had loved her that no secrets or Dark Lord could take.

  
  
Her vision came back into focus and rested on her son, her rock, her salvation. “Draco, I promise, I won’t let your father keep you prisoner too. The hope I had for my freedom came in the form of you, and I’ll be damned if that is taken from me as well. He-who-must-not-be-named has taken my love, my husband, my marriage, and I’ll _never_ let him take my freedom.” She reaches through the bars to touch her darling son’s face. He moves closer to her to hold her hand to his cheek.  
  
”I’ll look around Draco, I’m going to look for a door or a key” She stands, straightens her robes and turns to begin her search. She is searching the walls for a key or a secret latch but jumps when she hears a voice. “What in Merlin’s name do you think you are doing?” Narcissa turns to see a rage filled Lucius who continues full of malice, “Conversing with this _blood traitor_ is inadmissible. Leave now.” Narcissa stands surprised, and replies pleading, “How could you say that about our _son_? He needs us and because of your stupid beliefs and stubborn pride, you’re going to leave him to be slaughtered? How could you? Was it not enough to ruin me, but now you’ve got to destroy the rest of our family? I’ve always loved you and done what you’ve asked but I will not let you take my son and make him the enemy.”  
  
Lucius stood there cooly, listening to his wife, and once she was finished, he slaps her and retorted, “I am your  husband. You do not question my decisions. _Know your place_. I have no son; bedding and marrying Mudbloods are crimes against the Malfoy name. And so, I have no idea who you are talking about. Now leave my sight before I deal with you for attempting to aid this...filth”  
  
Narcissa listened stoney faced, looking into the cold displaced blue eyes she loved so dearly, tears blurring her sight. She nods meekly and turns to go, blowing a kiss behind her husband’s back to Draco. He waves goodbye resignedly, left alone at the mercy of his father. “Now Draco, where were we? You know, you’ll pay for attempting to get your mother to bail you out as well. I suppose I can supplement your later punishment and begin now.” Lucius raises his wand to curse Draco, when Draco speaks up, “Wouldn’t the Dark Lord be mad with you if you were to torture me before him? If I were so wiped out that I couldn’t cry out and grant the Dark Lord a satisfactory death?” Lucius hesitates, “Well, I’m only carrying out the Dark Lord’s wishes--”  
“But his wishes weren’t for you to take liberties with  his prisoners now was it?”  
“No...”  
“So you’re just going to listen to what the Dark Lord says without a second thought to your own wants, needs, feelings? Like a little lap dog?”  
Lucius has no answer, but stands with his wand still extended looking at the floor.  
“Exactly the point I tried to make earlier before I ended up here, Father dearest. You’ve got the nerve to speak to my mother like she is worthless, and tell her to know her place, but the moment someone mentions the Dar--Voldemort, you cringe like a dog with its tail between it’s legs. Know yourplace bitch, know your fucking place.”  
  
Draco falls to the floor writhing in pain, until it suddenly stops and he looks up. Voldemort is standing there wand raised, “You certainly are mouthy. No wonder you presented such a problem for Lucius earlier.” Lucius is immediately bowing, afraid to look into Voldemort’s eyes. Draco notices this and scoffs, turning to Voldemort, “You came down here for little old me? You shouldn’t have.” Voldemort looks amused, “This is unprecedented. Your attitude could be used in the Death Eater’s favor, Draco. I am offering you one last chance for redemption, go back to the Mudblood, and use her to get closer to Potter. Then lure him back to us, kill the Mudblood and all will be forgiven.” Draco looks at his father, “You see his obsession with Potter? He’d kill you for a second with Potter.” Voldemort laughs, “He knows that Draco, which is why he is so faithful to me, out of fear for his own life.” Draco shakes his head, “I won’t do it. Not for anything, you’d sooner have to kill me.” Voldemort stands in silence, sizing up Draco and gestures to Lucius, “Come Lucius, we need to discuss this in private.” Lucius nods, eyes still on the floor and follows Voldemort out.  
  
Draco stands in the dark silence of the dungeon on edge, waiting for a sound, for a curse, for anything. He begins to grow tired and moves to lay down to sleep while waiting for Voldemort to return with his “diabolical plan”. As he begins to close his eyes he sees movement from the dungeon doorway; he sits up and sees Voldemort and his father walk to the bars. “Draco, since you won’t help me, I’ll just have to force you to,” Voldemort sneers ambiguously. He moves aside and Draco sees Voldemort’s plan. He sees _himself_.


	5. Tempest Discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione decides to follow her gut instinct and sets out to find out who this man is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was so friggin proud of finding all these fitting poems man, Vintage T spent legit hours finding them, so hopefully you’re appreciating them and letting that be the balance for any errors she had. 
> 
> Tumblr is @letsstopfightingit

_Let me not to the marriage of true minds_  
Admit impediments. Love is not love  
Which alters when it alteration finds,  
Or bends with the remover to remove:  
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark  
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;  
It is the star to every wandering bark,  
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.  
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks  
Within his bending sickle's compass come:  
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,  
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.  
If this be error and upon me proved,  
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.  
-William Shakespeare  
  
Hermione awakes to sunlight streaming through the window, the afternoon sun angling to hit her eyes. _What happened last night?_ She glances around, not remembering how she got into bed. The last thing she could recall was--her eyes widen and she jumps out of bed, seizing her wand from the nightstand. _Draco._ Glancing around she remembers that he was here, but she had fainted. _Why?_ She felt strange; why wasn’t she happy to see him? _That’s so horrible I go out of my mind worrying and the moment I find out he’s safe...I feel so paranoid right now..._  
  
She gets up and heads downstairs to look for Draco, Harry, and Ron, stashing her wand in her pocket. She sees them all in the kitchen and once they all see her, they all charge full tilt to hug her before the other two. “You all right, Mione? You really shouldn’t be wandering around when you’re ill!” Hermione looks at Ron and Harry and smiles, silently laughing at their worry. Feeling his eyes, she fearfully glances towards Draco, who’s eyes are framed in worry. They all hug her as she nod’s she’s all right, when Draco moves to hug her, she feels herself inwardly recoil, but forces herself to hug him back. He pulls back and looks into her eyes, gently running his fingers through her hair, “What’s wrong? You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.” She hesitates, taking in those gorgeous blue eyes feeling like they’re not the same as the one she loves, “Nothing, just tired I suppose.” He smiles knowingly and moves to kiss her, she pushes back sputtering an excuse of using the bathroom. She practically leaps out of his arms, and sprints to the bathroom. _There. what was that? It was almost like a look of relief?_ She continues to mull it over as she quickly locks the door and plops down on the tile, and leans against the tub. She sighs, glancing at the door, knowing she can’t stay put for too long or they’ll bust down the door to find her. _Why can’t I shake this feeling?_ She stands exasperated at her lack of reason and exits the bathroom.  
  
She walks back into the kitchen, wearing what she hopes is a carefree expression. “I’m starving! What's for lunch?” She forces herself to be calm, and sits at the counter. Draco turns to a cabinet and grabs her a plate, conjuring a salad onto it and handing it to her. Hermione watches, confused, _Draco doesn’t cook, not even with magic._ She opens her mouth to question it, but closes her mouth--an off base accusation based on a salad? She’d be drugged and back in bed before she could get the truth. She accepts the plate and looks at Draco, thanks him and begins to eat. He walks by and kisses her on the head. Hermione begins to draw back, but smells something familiar--but very unlike Draco’s usual scent. She hugs him, hoping he doesn’t sense her sniffing him. She can’t smell it any longer and pulls back, but Draco pulls her in to kiss her. _There._ She smells it full on, a porous odor, but faint, familiar. She digs deep into her memory; remembering that she had read that scent is the strongest sense tied to memory. After the kiss she returns to her salad as Draco leaves to dress, her mind churning through seven years of potions, trying to place the scent. Then she chokes on a piece of lettuce as it strikes her--Polyjuice Potion. It isn’t Draco at all.  
  
Harry and Ron rush to help Hermione dislodge the lettuce, but she’s too stunned at her discovery to notice. Even when they get it out, she still can’t breathe. She sinks to the floor and vomits, realizing that “Draco” is a Death Eater sent to torture Hermione while Draco was being tortured as well no doubt. Then Hermione’s eyes settle on Harry’s green ones and a shock goes through her body as she realizes that he had seen her whole breakdown. _Harry! They’re after Harry!_ She quickly jumps up, waving her wand over the vomit, cleaning it. “I’m fine, really. Just a little woozy, I suppose, I’ll just go back to sleep. And since Draco’s home I’ll just have him take care of me. You both should go home. I know Ginny’s positively livid by now since you’re still not home, and haven’t sent word, Harry.” She hopes this will be good enough to get her friends to leave, for their safety.  
  
Harry and Ron exchange glances, worried about Hermione, but about to leave her to Draco at her request. “Alright Mione, but you’ll call us tomorrow so we can check up on you?” Harry says, hoping to reach Hermione, her eyes miles away. “Yes, Harry. First thing tomorrow,” she says in a reassuring voice. _Anything to get you to leave! Merlin, could you be anymore clueless?!_ Both boys, now convinced of her ease, turn to pack, waving goodbye and command her to return to bed immediately. She says goodbye and turns to her study door. _Now to find out who he is_.


	6. Letter Goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Narcissa pens her plan, and then sets it into action; bringing about an end and perhaps a beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’re in the home stretch, which at 9 chapters doesn’t feel long, but Vintage T thought it was. Maybe for the time, circa 2007, it was? Lord knows I’ve committed to some 100 chapter fics recently haha any errors are Vintage T’s, so that I can put her sins behind me and start writing again
> 
> Tumblr @letsstopfightingit

_Therefore by that dear name I long have called you-_  
You who are more than mother unto me,   
And fill my heart of hearts, where Death installed you   
In setting my spirit free.   
My mother- my own mother, who died early,   
Was but the mother of myself; but you   
Are mother to the one I loved so dearly,   
And thus are dearer than the mother I knew   
By that infinity with which my wife   
Was dearer to my soul than its soul-life.   
-Edgar Allan Poe  
  
  
Draco sits, frozen looking at himself. Then the other Draco lifts his hand to his head in a salute and Disapparates.  
  
“Wha-Who?-How?” Draco stammers unable to string his stunned thoughts together.  
  
“What was that Draco, a little trouble?” Lucius laughs bitingly, “It was a Polyjuice Potion, we found some of your hairs in your old wardrobe.”  
  
Draco stands slowly, “who is it? who’s going back?”  
  
Lucius simply smiles and turns to Voldemort, “The Dark Lord thought it would be--well, poetic if we sent someone very near and dear to your heart who was just as shocked about your Mudblood exploits as we were.” Draco steadies himself, waiting for the name of the traitor. “It was your friend from Hogwarts, Blaise, Blaise Zabini."  
  
Draco reels, of all the names, that was the one he was not prepared for. He had meant to tell Blaise, but had frozen up because every time he tried Blaise had said a slur against Muggleborns and the lot. Draco opens his mouth to reply, his tongue thick, dry and immovable. He leans against the bars, trying to regain his composure.  
  
“I knew you’d like my choice Draco, you never cease to disappoint me with your antics,” Lucius declares, visibly amused.  
Voldemort chuckles and interjects, “As I told you before, Draco, either you help us or we’ll force you to. Blaise has orders to do as he sees fit until receiving orders from me. Think about it, the longer you refuse to help us, the longer your precious Mudblood is with Zabini unknowingly.”  
  
Turning to go he motions for Lucius to follow, and ends the conversation with “When you change your mind, young Malfoy, I will return.” Draco is still against the bars, trying to recover from this sucker punch of a blow.  
  


\--------------------------------------------------------------------

  
  
Narcissa is upstairs in the study finishing a letter to Lucius, a letter she hopes will make sense of what she is going to do. _All that I write is false, it’s evident. The art of losing isn’t hard to master, oh no, anything at all can be lost. Anything, but one’s love. Or it, I’ll say it, becomes disaster._ Narcissa signs the letter, and seals it, placing it on Lucius’s desk. _Now he’ll know that I’ve always loved him, but I can’t just sit back and let him do this to the last of the life we used to have._ She sighs and stands to leave, steadying her resolve, determined to make it right. She sneaks back into the dungeon, praying Lucius had left with Voldemort so she could speak with her son. Upon arriving in the dungeon, she breathes a sigh of relief, her son is still there, alone.  
  
She moves to the bars and takes her dazed son’s hand, “What’s the matter Draco? He didn’t hurt you again has he?” Draco looks at her wordlessly, and can’t seem to form a coherent sentence,  
  
“Blaise... went... Hermione... won’t know... Father... tosser... must... no.” A lone tear of frustration and fear rolls down his face, and his mother watches it, knowing that she must do what she came to do.   
  
“Draco honey, I have a plan. Now pay attention and listen closely, I don’t know how much time we have before he comes back.”  
  


\----------------------------------------------------------------------

  
  
Lucius returns to his study to prepare for the next step of Voldemort’s plan, gathering bits of parchment and several volumes into a bag. He sits at his desk, rifles through the drawers, and spies a sealed envelope with Narcissa’s flourish on the front. He grasps the envelope, tears it open and begins to read of Narcissa’s love, the years of fear and anguish, and finally her plan. He finishes, swears and strides across the room, seizes the door and throws it open. _I need to get down there before she does something foolish._  
  
Once he reaches the main level he sees no one and continues his march to the dungeons. However, a Death Eater waiting to accompany Lucius on his task for Voldemort sees him look around the level and head into the dungeon; assuming he’s meant to follow Lucius down. Lucius reaches the dungeon steps and leaps over them, anxious to reach Draco’s cell. He skids to a stop, and the other Death Eater collides into Lucius’s back moments later. He turns to see who crashed into him, but pays no notice, still dismayed over his wife’s presence in Draco’s cell with Draco nowhere to be seen.  
  
“Narcissa, what have you done?!” Lucius is livid at his wife’s blatant disregard for his commands. The other Death Eater speaks up, “What happened? Where’s Draco?”  
  
Narcissa looks up and tearfully smiles, “Free. I thought carefully, and made my decision. I wrote you, Lucius, you know exactly why I’ve done this.”  
  
Both men look at each other and wait for her to continue, and after a moment she does. “I refused to let you do this Lucius as you remember earlier, and once you sent me away like a disciplined child I decided that I was done taking your lashes. So I came down when you were gone with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and did a Switching Spell and gave him his wand. He’s going to save Hermione, and they’re going to live happily ever after--what we were supposed to have Lucius.” She stops, her eyes flashing for Lucius to respond.  
  
“Why would you deliberately disobey me Narcissa? Now there’s a fate worse than death for us all. Is that what you want?!”  
  
She stands defiantly and spits in his face, “I don’t care. you want to know why I’ve done it? I’ll tell you, because I love him more than I love you, because he represents when you were mine, because he’s capable of being a human being, because he’s _not you._ ”  
  
She stands braced for what she knows is coming next, Lucius wipes the spittle off his face and yanks out his wand, pointing it. “Now you’ve blurred all the lines I’ve worked so hard to set up, Narcissa.”  
  
She looks him in the eye and says “I know that my actions have been worth it. How about you, Lu? Will it all be worth it in the end?” He hesitates, lowering his wand slightly, then picks it back up, and aims it.  
  
“Yes, in fact it will. **AVADA KEDAVRA**!” A green light fills the room, and then silence.


	7. Unexpected Developments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione reveals the imposter's identity, and Draco comes to her aid; both are foiled by the imposter's actions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, you’re a trooper for hanging on— Vintage T had some errors I’m sure but hopefully nothing too glaring. I’d love to hear from you, comment or hit me up on tumblr @letstopfightingit

_I was angry with my friend:  
I told my wrath, my wrath did end.  
I was angry with my foe:  
I told it not, my wrath did grow.  
And I watered it in fears  
Night and morning with my tears,  
And I sunned it with smiles  
And with soft deceitful wiles.  
And it grew both day and night,  
Till it bore an apple bright,  
And my foe beheld it shine,  
And he knew that it was mine,--  
And into my garden stole  
When the night had veiled the pole;  
In the morning, glad, I see  
My foe outstretched beneath the tree.  
-William Blake_  
  
  
Hermione crouches behind the desk in her study, furtively flipping through the many books she has acquired over the years. _I know it’s here somewhere, I’ve seen it before...if only I didn’t have so many sodding books._ Her hands come to rest on a page, a triumphant smile breaking out onto her face. _This is it! The Glamour Revealing Potion._ She reads on, glancing over the desk at the locked door, begins to gather ingredients and form a plan.  
  
Blaise is upstairs sitting carefree on the edge of Draco’s bed, confident that Hermione didn’t have a clue what was headed her way. _I never understood what Malfoy saw in this Mudblood brat,_ he thinks to himself brushing the blond hairs out of his eyes, _in school she was such a bore, but now she’s different._ He is taken aback bu this sudden thought and sits up. _Oh bugger, this is catching._ He stands and walks downstairs, eager to walk thinking it will clear his head. He reaches the foyer and reaches for the doorknob, but before he can turn it hears a voice. “Draco...could you come here dear?”  
  
He turns confused, pauses and heads towards the voice silently glad he had taken a tour while she slept. _What am I going to do? They didn’t give me enough time to read Malfoy’s person. Oh piss it, how hard can it be to make a Mudblood love you?_  
  
Hermione’s voice sails from her study, full of what she hopes is endearing and syrupy. She pushes the cabinet full of the ingredients for the potion closed and arranges herself on her desk. _Ugh, here goes nothing. Please let this work._ She perches on the edge of the desk in a highly suggestive pose, and lowers her voice to a husky whisper when “Draco” walks in, “Draco dahling, be a dear, and run to Diagon Alley and fetch the things we need for tomorrow. I promise I’ll make it worth the run.”   
  
She trails off, trailing her fingers across her thighs as she continues, “It’d make it easier and I can finish packing for us.” She thinks hard of a trip to the rest of Europe, knowing that the Death Eater would read her mind to figure out what trip she was talking about.  
  
Blaise stands silent and nods turning to go. _Damn. What are these tossers doing tomorrow? I can’t very well go ask Draco._ So he pauses outside the doorway and uses Legilimency to get into her mind. _There’s no way she’ll be any the wiser. She thinks its me, and we’re going on some trip. Heh, I’ll show her a time better than Malfoy could._ His old competitive streak against Draco flares, and as he leaves for Diagon Alley decides he will be a better Draco than Draco himself could be.  
  
Hermione lets her guard down once she hears “Draco” Disapparate. She flings the cabinet open and scoops all the vials into her arms and sprints for the kitchen. _Who knows how much time I’ve got. Bugger, I’ve gotta put it on him._   
  
She pauses, reading the end of the instructions. “Once brewed, put two drops into your eyes and place the rest onto the skin of the subject and rinse the Glamour away.”   
  
She hurries, finishing the recipe and thinks quickly trying to decide how to use it. Then it hits her like a foot to the chest; she’s going to have to make good on the promise to the Death Eater. She sighs heavily, pours the potion into a spare bottle and cleans the kitchen with her wand. Clutching the potion, she makes her way slowly up the stairs towards the master bathroom, steadying herself.   
  
_Its for Draco, that’s all. You can do this Hermione._ She slowly strips, and turns on the water. She stands in shower doorway, gripping the frame chastising herself for making such a big deal over this. _Its the only way, and I need to know where Draco is._ She adjusts the water temperature, and snags the bottle off the counter, slipping into the water stream and hiding the bottle behind the shampoo.  
  
Blaise had finished quickly, Hermione’s mind only specifying trivial packages and clothing. He easily returned to the mansion and set about to find Hermione, to continue the Draco charade. He finds her in the bathroom, waiting for a moment sheepishly outside the doorway before reminding himself that Draco would just swagger in and hop in with her. He sets his jaw, and peels clothes off as he walks across the expanse from the doorway to the glass shower.  
  
“Hullo love,” he says, sliding his arms around her naked waist, kissing a trail from her ear down her shoulder, “started without me have you?”  
  
Hermione was surprised, not only at the boldness of this Death Eater, nor at his ability to play Draco, but also at how predictable he was. “Start without you? More like prepared everything for you dear,” she says peering flirtatiously through wet eyelashes, running her fingertips across the chiseled torso of “Draco”’s body.   
  
“Things are a tad dry in here don’t you think?” Hermione purrs, seductively, pulling the potion from behind the shampoos, “Here our favorite body wash.” She begins lathering him in deep circles, the potion bubbling like a soap, and washing away the pale color of Draco’s alabaster skin to reveal a dark ebony skin. She finishes his body and moves to his face.   
  
_Blaise. Draco’s best friend is the one they sent? Bastards._ She is careful not to reveal that she knows now who the impostor is, and lithely slips out of the shower, “Rinse off big boy, I’ll be waiting in the bedroom, for round two.” She winks and saunters into the next room, her naked form walking full and slow, to accommodate for the pair of eyes drinking in every curve from the shower. _Its working perfectly._  
  
Blaise stands under the stream of water, trying to force the images and thoughts from his head with the burning water. _This isn’t happening. She thinks I’m him. She’s beautiful, she’s everything. She’s his._   
  
Blaise turns off the water and stands in the shower, dripping water from Draco’s cheekbones. He turns towards the bedroom, deciding almost instantly, _I’ll shag the Mudblood, that’ll get this out of my system._ He practically skips into the bedroom and is met with an encyclopedia volume to the face. He hits the floor in a lump, and is out cold.  
  
Hermione hadn’t meant to hit him so hard, it would be hard to lift him alone, and she couldn’t risk him waking up before she had him bound. She took her wand from the dresser behind her and bound Blaise’s hands before crouching near his clothes to find his wand.   
  
She straightens up and locks eyes with a third person in the room, Draco. Or is it? She straightens up slowly, tightening her grip on the two wands. She notices the amused look in this Draco’s eyes as he looks at the crumpled form of Blaise, “Bit of foreshadowing is it then Mione? Is that the price for being me nowadays?”  
  
Her eyes widen, not sure whether to believe her heart in saying this was the real Draco, “Stand up and discard your wand, sir, and then kindly make your way over here.” He obliges, tossing his wand onto the bed and walks towards Hermione. “Stop right there,” she commands, searching for a way to check if it would be the real Draco.  
  
He casts a sneer in the direction of Blaise, “Right prick this one was, I was in the dungeon and he dispatches himself to pose as me. Well, you got what you deserved bastard.” Draco directs the comment at Blaise’s unconscious form, but looks into Hermione’s eyes, hoping she’ll realize that it really is the real him.   
  
He has an idea, “Mione, the Polyjuice Potion copies body form and traits like that right?” She nods, and he begins to undress, “So things like piercing, tattoos and scars wouldn’t show?”   
  
She shakes her head confused, wand still fixed on his heart. He removes his shirt and turns his right bicep showing a tattoo of a series of numbers, one that she matched with her own tattoo. But she still looked unconvinced, so he removed his pants to show her a scar from when they had gotten overzealous in the tub and he had hit the faucet.   
  
She was wavering and he could tell, “Mione its me, I came back for you.” He reaches for her hand, wary and afraid of spooking her.  
  
Hermione looks at his outstretched hand, and wants to believe wholly that this is Draco, but isn’t sure. She locks eyes with him again and asks her final question, “What was in the box?”  
  
He cocks his head and replies, “Jeez Granger, I didn’t think you’d actually wait for me to open it, I thought your feminine curiosity would have gotten the best of you and you’d know it was a ring.”   
  
She smiles, drops the wands and leaps into his arms, overjoyed at his return. “I was so worried! What happened?” He smiles and begins to tell her what happened, lowering her onto the bed.   
“Well, see what had happened was...”  
  
Draco stops, midsentence teasing her, but then pauses because he feels something isn’t right. He looks over his shoulder and sees Blaise, wand raised, holding Hermione’s wand in his other hand. “Well, its good to have you back Malfoy, I can pretend to stop being you, bloody wonderous.”  
  
Draco looks at his friend, “I thought we were mates Zabini, and then you take an assignment to hurt Hermione? Well you got what you deserved, Hermione knocked you straight on your ass.” Draco continues talking out of his ass, hoping to keep Blaise’s attention away from his hand that was slowly sliding behind him to his wand.  
  
Hermione takes note and joins in, “You weren’t very good at pretending to be Draco, I knew it was you the entire time.”   
  
Blaise glances towards Hermione and smiles, “I’m certain you did, poppet, but that certainly didn’t stop you from hopping the shower with me now did it?”   
  
Draco feels his fingers connect with the wand, and wraps his fingers around it, “Well, Zabini old boy, this is the end of the road... EXPELLIARMUS!”   
  
The wands shoot out of Zabini’s hands onto the floor, Blaise sees them land and makes a move to grab them, but is whirled around and is met with a uppercut from Draco.  
  
Hermione goes to the wands and remarks, “Blaise isn’t having the greatest of days, he’s sent to kill me and ends up flat on his back twice in a row. Pity.”   
  
She and Draco laugh and kiss. Neither see Blaise lift a wand out of his robes and press it to his Dark Mark. The two lovers turn back to Blaise who says in turn, “You may think you’ve done it, but you’ve really no idea how far this goes.”   
  
They look at each other confused, and hear the sounds of Apparating realizing that the house has filled with Death Eaters. Several Death Eaters grab Draco and immediately Disapparate, leaving Blaise with Hermione, “You know I can keep you from this, I can hide you, say I killed you. I could use a woman like you, you know.”   
  
She returns his glance with a look of hatred, and spits in his face, “I’d rather burn in hell with Draco, than do anything with you, Blaise.”  
  
He smiles coldly, “That can be arranged, Miss Mudblood.”


	8. A Poetic Redemption

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucius and Narcissa engage their plan, lives are lost, loves are gained, and a poetic redemption occurs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You’re practically there, keep going! Vintage T and I appreciate you reading, commenting and indulging her errors. tumblr is @letsstopfightingit

_This is thy hour O Soul, thy free flight into the wordless,  
Away from books, away from art, the day erased, the lesson done,  
Thee fully forth emerging, silent, gazing, pondering the themes thou lovest best,  
Night, sleep, death and the stars.  
-Walt Whitman_  
  
“Cissy, you can open your eyes now.” a voice whispers. Narcissa shakes her head, afraid to see her surroundings. It is strangely quiet, and that frightens her; she begins to wonder if this is where she had last stood in the land of the living.  
  
“Am I dead?” she asks, remembering Lucius and his wand; the screaming and the killing curse; the bright green flash of light and the silence.  
  
“Stop being ridiculous and get out of there! The Dark Lord will be here any moment, and you’re going to ruin everything! You’re lucky this is salvageable.”  
  
The voice is commanding, familiar. Narcissa cautiously opens her eyes, and sees Lucius standing in the cell doorway, his hand extended, his feet on either side of a very dead Death Eater, laying on the floor. “What happened? I thoug-- but you--huh?” She trails off, confused and gingerly reaches for his outstretched hand. “Lu? what have you done?”  
  
Lucius takes her hands and gently leads her over the body, and up the stairs. “I’ll explain everything upstairs dearest. But when the Dark Lord arrives, just let me do the talking all right?”  
  
Narcissa nods quietly, curious as to what Lucius is prattling about, and wondering where her son is. Lucius shuts the bedroom door, and sits her down, obviously setting her up for a long story.  
  
“Well, this whole time I’ve been trying to protect you from the Dark Lord, and when Draco was born it was that much harder to be safe on the Dark Lord’s errands and the like. And when the Dark Lord became pleased with my level of work he promoted me, which you saw that one night years ago.”  
  
She opened her mouth to comment, but Lucius held up a hand, “When the Dark Lord offers a position, you take it, or else the lives of not just you are at stake, but the lives of every person you’ve ever _met_. But as I watched my son grew up, I was often very proud of him, but I was afraid the Dark Lord would see it and recruit Draco. So I dived harder into my work so He wouldn’t feel the need for more Death Eaters, and it eventually occurred to me to make my son disregard me as a father. Then he wouldn’t be inclined to help the Dark Lord, or take vengeance on the Dark Lord in the event of my death--instead he would just take it in stride and make sure never to pledge allegiance to the Dark Lord, knowing full well it leads only to death; if not your death, then others.”  
  
Narcissa sat listening to her husband continue to pour out his story, eyes growing more and more wet as he continued. Finally, unable to take more, she grabs him and pulls him into a tight embrace, afraid to let go for it could be a mirage just waiting to leave her. _This is too perfect, too convenient. How do I know he means it this time?_ She pulls back and looks into his eyes, “Lu, this is so sudden, you can understand my apprehension...”  
  
Lucius nods sadly, and continues softly into her ear,”Yes, Cissy, I can. But I hope you’ll understand, this is why I’ve always been so withdrawn, then Voldemort could never use my family against me, and if anything happened to me, you both wouldn’t feel the need for vengeance.”  
  
Narcissa pulled him down onto the bed to sit facing her. “Lu, why did you let them take Draco? Why did you let them do this?”  
  
Lucius takes her hands, “I didn’t want to, I was upset over Draco and that girl, and I went upstairs to get away from him, and the Dark Lord appeared and began to regale me with instructions for my next task, and then Draco came bounding up the stairs, and I did the only thing I knew to protect him. I fought him trying to get him to leave, but he knocked me unconscious, and while I was out the Dark Lord had summoned other Death Eaters to deal with Draco. When I came to, he gave me instructions on how we were to use Draco, and I’ve been making a plan ever since.”  
  
Narcissa takes in the look of genuinely concern and the pleading tone of his voice, the man who seemed to show no emotion was now begging his wife to help him save his family. She needed no other explanation, if it involved saving Draco she was in. “So what’s the plan Lu?”  
  
She smiled warmly at her husband and he took his face in his hands, “Just follow my lead, and you’ll learn it as we go.”  
  
He kisses her deeply, his love and passion growing for her by the moment, after being hidden for so long. _Merlin, I’ve missed her._ His hands keep their place on Narcissa’s cheeks as Lucius’s body moves to lay atop Narcissa.  
  
 _Merlin, I’ve missed him._ She runs one hand through his hair, pulling his kiss into her harder. His hands trail from her face down her neck, one sweeping behind the nape of her neck to support her head, and the other to behind her hip, pulling her pelvis closer to his.   
  
“I’m sorry its been so long Cissy, I love you,” he whispers into her lips, then easing his tongue into her waiting mouth. She curls back in ecstasy as his hand moves up her thigh, egged on by her waiting desire. She tugs on his robes, eager to have him after so long, her slumbering passion fully awake and throbbing. Lucius pulls back to oblige her, and undresses himself and her in one fluid movement, using his Malfoy skill to pick up where he left off in mere moments. She had missed this, this passion, this love. She lays back, submitting to her love, her passion, her husband. He pulls apart her legs and eases into her, their bodies finally meeting. They moved as one, exploring each other’s bodies as though for the first time. Their moans growing in volume as they near their peaks, and they find release at the same time, eyes locked lovingly.  
  
 _This is love. This is right._ they both think, smiling greatly. “Looks like you haven’t lost your touch, Lu. Only you could make me weak in the knees like that”  
  
Lucius blushes slightly at Narcissa’s comment, and returns “Well, you’ve got that spark that makes me do it, love.”  
  
He lays back and reaches for her, she obliges and nuzzles against the length of his body.   
  
“Why do you think we’ve left this behind and never found it until now?” she asks, remembering the gaps, far and wide, in their love.  
  
“I think it may be because we both were so intent on not losing each other we hadn’t realized we had. But now we’re on the same page and we can--” Lucius is interrupted by Narcissa’s fingertips on his mouth.  
“But we’re not on the same page, you still haven’t told me the plan, and I trust you but I don’t want to ruin it like I did before.” Lucius turns to Narcissa and props his head on his arm, “All right then, here it is...”  
  
”Malfoy, the Dark Lord wishes your presence. Zabini has brought the pair back with him” a brusque voice barks through the closed door.  
  
Narcissa looks in fear at Lucius but is reassured by his calm smile. _Its all part of the plan, just trust him_ She nods and they quickly untangle themselves.  
“All right, we shall be down in a moment.”  
  
They dress and they begin to ready themselves for their plan. “All right, remember the plan then all right?” He takes her face in his hands once more, “Let’s do this.” They kiss briefly and exit.  
  
”Ah Malfoy! As you have already noticed, Zabini has brought the two young ‘ _love birds_ ’” Voldemort spits the last words as bitterly as he looked, “Would you care to share any thoughts with our guests as to what is going to ensue?”  
  
Lucius nodded curtly and marched towards the bars, “Well, so glad to see you could make it, Draco, and to see the young Mudblood as well.” Lucius sneers at the pair of them and turns on his heel, “Master, don’t you think young Mr. Zabini should share the story of his success at returning so quickly? I dare say, I’m intrigued.”  
  
Voldemort looks at Blaise, agreeing with Lucius, “yes, I’m quite interested as well, come with me Zabini. Lucius you stay with our guests and see to it that they are comfortable until I return.” Voldemort leaves leading Blaise and several Death Eaters out of the dungeon, leaving the Malfoys alone with Hermione and Draco.  
  
”I don’t know what you have planned, you sick son of a bitch, but you’re not going to set a finger on Hermione or I’ll see to it that no one finds hind nor hair of you ever” Draco’s words venomous.  
  
“Draco, do shut up.” Lucius snaps, nodding to Narcissa, and heading to the doorway, “We’ve got only minutes before he’s done torturing Zabini.”  
  
Narcissa turns to Draco, “Sweetheart, you must listen carefully. You must do _exactly_ as your father says, do you understand?”  
  
Draco shakes his head, “No, I don’t. You can’t be serious! After everything he’s done I’m supposed to do what he says, and you’re going to let him?!”  
  
Narcissa sighs and continues “I know darling, but whether you want to or not, you’re going to do what I say.”  
  
Draco looks at his mother, tears welling quickly. “Yes Mum, what ever you say.”  
  
Voldemort returns, head held high, “Well, now we can go on with the show. Young mister Zabini has been sent for his next task, and we can now turn to these to and get what we need.” He nods to Lucius and turns to the pair in the cell, “Now you two have by now been filled in by Malfoy what is required of you?”  
  
Draco and Hermione nod sullenly, sitting on the ground far from the bars, holding each other’s hand.  
  
“And are you going to cooperate or will I have to resort to measures?” Voldemort’s voice threatening, and his expression pleased, _I was almost afraid this would be easy, what would be the pleasure in that?_ He lifts his wand and asks again, “Well you two? I would like an answer now, if not I can always just kill you and do it myself.”  
  
Draco spits at Voldemort’s form, “I’ll never serve you, you ruined my life. And my entire family’s! You’ll never succeed, I’ll make sure of it.”  
  
Voldemort lowers his wand slightly, an amused smile spreads across his face, “And how are you planning on doing that my dear boy if you are dead?”  
  
Hermione speaks up, “Because I am going to help him. You won’t ruin anymore lives, like ours. I swear on my life.”  
  
Narcissa lunges forward crying, “Don’t do it! Don’t let them do it!”  
  
Lucius fiercely grabs her and drags her sobbing form against a wall, grabbing a sword off the wall and holding it to her throat.  
  
“Thank you Lucius, you see dear boy? Your father’s faith is unwavering and with that I have rewarded him.”  
  
Draco scoffs, “Oh really? and how is that?”  
  
Voldemort steps closer to the bars, “By never having to fear for his life as long as he is faithful.”  
  
Draco stands, “Well, what’s to stop me from killing you right now? Your precious Death Eaters aren’t anywhere to be found, and if I attack you my father is going to have his hands full with my mother.”  
  
Voldemort chuckles viciously, “Silly boy, do you think I really need the likes of them to protect me? HAHA, you really have it all chalked up wrong boy.” Voldemort waves his hand to Lucius, beckoning him to his side.  
  
Lucius shoves Narcissa up the stairs, “Get out of my sight until the Dark Lord and I have dealt with this problem.”  
  
Narcissa begins up the stairs, and turns to her son, “I love you,” she whispers and turns to go up the stairs.  
  
Lucius walks to Voldemort’s side, sword in one hand, wand in the other.  
  
“I want an answer Malfoy, go extract one for me.” Voldemort says flippantly pointing towards the cell.  
  
Lucius opens the cell door and grabs Hermione, “Well Draco if you’re not going to answer the Dark Lord, then let’s see if we can get one from your Mudblood friend here.” He points his wand, “Do you really want this Draco? You know full well what will happen. But you can save me time, and tell me what I want to know. I’m sure the Dark Lord would appreciate it as well, because then he can enjoy your kill.”  
  
Draco looks forlornly at Hermione, “Do you know what you sound like, Father? I won’t help your precious Dark Lord, and neither will Hermione. There is that the answer you were looking for?!”  
  
Lucius nods and tosses Hermione onto the floor, and locks the cell door again. The Dark Lord nods in approval at Lucius’s ways, “Well done, Malfoy, you may be present for this.” He turns to the cell, “I have gotten your precious Mudblood here without your help, and I can get to the Boy through the two of you even without you being alive.” Voldemort lifts his wand, “But that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy this. _CRUCIO!!_ ” His wand is leveled on the two enciting screams of pain, he smiles, “Malfoy is this not beautiful?”  
  
“Oh yes my Lord, it is.” Lucius replies, his eyes fixed. He swings the sword full tilt towards his target. Contact. The cries of pain stop and Voldemort’s hand bounces off the floor towards the still pair.  
  
He turns to Lucius, eyes full of rage “You’ll pay for that Malfoy, just as soon as I finish this.” He reaches for his severed hand but is stopped by a sharp feeling in his back. He stands and looks down, the sword completely through his chest. “Malfoy, what is the meaning of this?” his speech starts to slow, “I can get the others down here to kill you...”  
  
He trails off as he sees Lucius become Draco, “Oh no you won’t Tom.”  
  
As he addresses Voldemort by his birth name, Hermione comes down the stairs satisfied, “No survivors Draco.”  
  
Voldemort reels and spins around, angered as it occurs to him that he has been tricked. “Malfoy!” His eyes lock onto Narcissa and Lucius on the cell floor, “Malfoy! Just wait until I get in there I’ll make you and your kindred wish you had never been conceived.”  
  
Lucius weakly sits up and closes his fingers around Voldemort’s wand and hand. “No you won’t, you see..I-I never was able to t-tell my son I loved him,” Lucius begins his eyes on Voldemort’s twisted face, “I couldn’t because I didn’t want him to be used against me. I ne-never could tell him, so I showed him.” He snaps Voldemort’s wand, “This is for my family,” he snaps it again, “this is for my love” and a final time “this is for my life.”  
  
Voldemort’s eyes watch the pieces of his wand strike the stone floor, and he whirls around to get a wand, his rage fueling his strength. Hermione anticipated this, and checked him into the bars, where Draco had his wand at Voldemort’s throat, “And this is for my father. AVADA KEDAVRA!!”  
  
Voldemort slumps against the bars, his face twisted with rage, surprise and fury, his eyes glossing over but still full of hate. And as Voldemort falls, Draco sees his parents still on the floor of the cell. He leaps over Voldemort’s flayed limbs and throws open the cell, followed by Hermione. “Mum! Dad! Please get up!” Draco knew this was part of the plan but had hoped it could be avoided.  
  
“Draco, I’m sorry it took so long, but I lo-l-love you.”  
  
His eyes locks with his father’s, and he nods, “I love you too Dad.”  
  
He turns to his mother, “Mum?”  
  
Her eyes open slowly, “Draco, dearest, your father certainly has a way of doing things the hard way, eh? He’s always wanted to redeem himself for being so shoddy a father. How’d he do?”  
  
Draco nods, his voice breaking, “It was a very...poetic redemption.” He kisses his mother, crying and turns back to his father, “Dad? I forgive you, for everything.”  
  
Lucius smiles weakly, “Thank you Draco, now marry this girl and love her. Always.” He sighs and dies, followed by Narcissa, who intertwines her pale fingers with his and dies quietly as well.  
  
 _So the old man gives his blessing and then bows out...typical dad._ Draco smiles quietly to himself, and cries. Cries for his mother, for his father who had been lost, found and lost again in an afternoon, and cries for his family.  
  
Hermione stood back, feeling out of place during the family’s goodbyes, but when Lucius mentioned her, he looked right at her and gave her a look. A look that said, “I’m sorry, please take care of my son”. She nodded and when he died she began to cry.  
  
She crouches next to Draco, taking his head against hers, crying with him. “I love you Draco”.  
  
He sniffs, and looks in her eye, “I love you too.” They stand and walk out of the Manor crossing bodies in their wake, wanting to inform the world that the tyrant was gone--gone out of Lucius and out of Voldemort.


	9. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end of the Age of Darkness, and a new beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You did it. You finished! If you haven’t, please give me some feedback— I want to be better than Vintage T. And yes, you’re welcome for this nonsense of an epilogue 
> 
> Let’s be friends on tumblr @letsstopfightingit

_Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky,_  
The flying cloud, the frosty light:  
The year is dying in the night;  
Ring out, wild bells, and let him die.  
Ring out the old, ring in the new,  
Ring, happy bells, across the snow:  
The year is going, let him go;  
Ring out the false, ring in the true.  
Ring out the grief that saps the mind  
For those that here we see no more;  
Ring out the feud of rich and poor,  
Ring in redress to all mankind.  
Ring out a slowly dying cause,  
And ancient forms of party strife;  
Ring in the nobler modes of life,  
With sweeter manners, purer laws.  
Ring out the want, the care, the sin,  
The faithless coldness of the times;  
Ring out, ring out my mournful rhymes  
But ring the fuller minstrel in.  
Ring out false pride in place and blood,  
The civic slander and the spite;  
Ring in the love of truth and right,  
Ring in the common love of good.  
Ring out old shapes of foul disease;  
Ring out the narrowing lust of gold;  
Ring out the thousand wars of old,  
Ring in the thousand years of peace.  
Ring in the valiant man and free,  
The larger heart, the kindlier hand;   
Ring out the darkness of the land,  
Ring in the Christ that is to be.  
-Lord Alfred Tennyson  
  
It is years later, Voldemort’s fall had been well accepted, seeing as how Draco and Hermione, with Lucius and Narcissa’s help, had destroyed all Death Eaters and Voldemort in one evening. The only Death Eater they hadn’t killed was Blaise, but he was captured by the Ministry on his assignment from Voldemort. A task He knew would cause Blaise to be caught, to punish Blaise into fear of the Dark Lord’s mercy. The ministry had sentenced Blaise to a life in Azkaban and rewarded Draco and Hermione handsomely for their success. The two of them had married soon after and were debating a far harder task than banishing the Dark Lord.  
  
“So Mrs. Malfoy,” Draco begins smiling, “And what are we going to name our beautiful daughter? She can’t go much longer with out a name you know.”  
  
Hermione wrinkles her nose at him, cradling her newborn daughter in her bed at St. Mungos, “I know, but I want it to be perfect.”  
  
Draco rolls his eyes, “Well what was wrong with the name I gave?”  
  
Hermione snorted, “If I was named Trudy I’d kill myself.”  
  
Draco straightens up, “come now, you know I was only joking about that!”  
  
Hermione giggles, “I know. How about Lucy Malfoy?”  
  
Draco cocks his head slightly, “Why Lucy? The name Lucy Malfoy is great and all, but they seem contradictory. A cute name like Lucy and the name of Malfoy.”  
  
Hermione smiles and kisses him, “Well the Malfoy name isn’t all evil now, and I think Lucy is perfect because its both of your parent’s names together. **LU** cius and Nar **CI** ssa. You see?”  
  
Draco’s eyes moisten, “That’s perfect, she’s our new start, and saving us was their new start. You’re bloody brilliant you know?” He kisses her neck, and whispers “So, when’s the plumbing all back to normal, because I think we should get started on getting Lucy here some siblings, because we both know being the only child is a drag.”  
  
Hermione laughs and gives Draco a playful shove, “Unless you plan on carrying and delievring the next few kids, you’re out of luck for a while.” She laughs but stops when she sees his serious face, “Whats the matter?”  
  
He looks at her solemny, “Who said anything about a few? I want **loads** of kids” He laughs at her shock, and she throws a pillow at him akwardly, afraid to shake the baby.  
  
“Shut up you, and kiss me.”  
  
He kisses her lovingly and kisses Lucy on the forehead, “You grandparents would have loved you,” he whispers into her little ear.  
  


**_Fin_ **

 


End file.
